


The Things You Do

by Anonymous



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anxiety, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, Dom Clint, Dom/sub Play, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Safeword, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Denial, Tony Angst, limits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bondage in bed freaks Tony out. Clint wants to try some bondage. Tony is hesitant at first, but in agreeing, he pushes his own limits. Tony's past unsavoury experiences with being tied up in the past makes it increasingly uncomfortable and leads Tony down a dark path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at Avenger Kink: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/17385.html?thread=39127529#t39127529
> 
> So Any wants to try some bondage, and Tony is hesitant at first, but eventually agrees to sub for Any. 
> 
> But Tony hasn't necessarily had the best relationship with being tied up in the past, so he becomes more and more uncomfortable with it as it goes on and ends up having intense flashbacks in the middle of it. I mean, the man had massive surgery without anesthesia while he was tied to a table, woke up tied to a chair following, was tortured with his hands tied behind him after that, not to mention Killian and that whole fiasco. How can that not turn you off to bondage? 
> 
> Cue panic attack and a very confused Any who feels terrible and tries really hard to console a nearly hysterical Tony. 
> 
> Ok with Any, but please no Loki. (Pref are Clint/Tony, Natasha/Tony, Steve/Tony)
> 
> +1 the bondage is very similar to something he's been through  
> +10 Tony lasts long enough for some sexy times to happen before he loses his shit  
> +100 Tony is blindfolded  
> +1000 if Tony lashes out at Any while he's being untied because he's having a full-blown flashback
> 
> +the entire internet if Tony tells Any EVERYTHING about the past torture and his reasons for not liking being tied up. This could be long so that's why it's a super duper bonus, not necessary, but amazing if filler is willing to write it.

 

It's hot. His mouth is dry. The thin layer of sweat covering his face, neck and torso makes him aware of the night chill. It's strange, and Tony brings a palm up to cover his eyes. He feels hot inside but his skin feels cold.

His rough hand doesn't bring comfort to him but he forces himself to take a deep, long breath. Tony holds it and lets his hand slide slowly from his face to rest on the bed, by his side. On his left, he can hear the soft, even breathing of his lover. From his right, the distant clashing of waves against the bottom of the cliff drifts in. The only light is from the stars and quarter moon. But everything is still too loud and too bright. It hurts. When the burning sensation begins, Tony finally releases the breath he was holding with a  _whoosh_. 

Tony doesn't need to know, but he taps a rhythm with his fingers and Jarvis illuminates the time on the bedroom ceiling. 4:12. Six hours since Clint had whispered that terrifying suggestion into Tony's ear. And four since Clint had fallen asleep, leaving Tony to sweat out his panic. 

Tony clenches his fist and turns his head as far as it would go to face away from Clint. It's disgusting. Sick. That's what it is. 

_How about it, Tony?_  

Tony tries to shrink himself and sink deeper into the mattress. He can't help it, he can still feel the hot breath from Clint's words caress his ear and the strong grip pinching into his right shoulder. He can still hear the arousal in Clint's voice. 

_Let's try it. Just to see what it's like._  

It took Tony all his willpower not to squirm away. 

_Wouldn't it be hot, Tony? If I tied you to a chair and fucked you?_

Tony clenches his jaw and forces his eyes closed. He knows. Clint would stop if Tony asks.

_Yeah sure,_  Tony winces at that memory.  _Not now though, now I have to prepare these hard drives for defragmentation or Jarvis will bitch._  He should have said no from the start. Now Clint is expecting something from him that he's not prepared to give.

  

* * *

 

The next time Tony opens his eyes, it's to the comforting blanket of the midday sun. The waves sound stronger and louder. Free from constraints, with not a care in the world. She mocks Tony with her constant clashing against the jagged rocks. Tony knows those rocks are sharp. He's landed on them before and he wonders if water can feel pain.   
  
Tony snorts. Of course not. Such a fierce and fearless force of nature does not bow to the whims of mortals. She does not fear rejection nor does she have the desire to conform to other's wishes. It's science. Erosion is the proof of that. Tony feels like he is eroding away from the inside.  
  
Tony rolls his eyes and forces himself from the bed. His toes curl into the fluffy rug and it makes Tony wonder about the possible positions Clint could fuck him in. Tony turns to face the bed and tilts his head in contemplation. Slowly, he bends at the waist, reaches out and smooths his fingers gently over the black silk sheets. They are beautiful. But if Clint tied him up and fucked him face down, would he still be able to feel the gentle comfort of these silk sheets or would they blend into his memories of darkness and fear? More importantly, would he ever be able to use these sheets again?  
  
He has nothing to fear. Not inside his lab anyway. So with the confidence and determination of a Stark, Tony strides directly to his lab and initiates a lockdown. His lab is cool. It is a fortress of wires and humming machines that are constantly warm. It's comforting, unlike Clint's words that keep echoing in his head.  
  
It takes eighteen hours of solid work before Tony asks for Clint's location.   
  
"Sir, Master Barton vacated Stark premises over three hours ago. He should be en route to his assigned location. Master Barton is expected to return in approximately sixty-three hours and forty-one minutes."  
  
"Thanks, Jarvis." So, Tony has less than three days. Three days is a lot of time, he's invented groundbreaking machines in that time. But it's quiet in the lab. With the lockdown initiated, there are no opportunities for distractions. He's all alone and the silence isn't silence to his ears. He can hear the electricity running through the circuits. He can hear the humming of the computers. He can hear the whirling of the fans. He can hear his arc reactor buzzing in his chest and beneath that, his heart thumping against it.   
  
 _I'm nervous_ , Tony thinks to himself as he forces his hands to reach for a disconnected hard drive. The sounds around him thump and buzz and whirl and hum louder as if moving in towards his ears - closer and closer until he thinks he's beginning to suffocate. The thought makes Tony snigger. Suffocating due to sounds? How utterly ridiculous! But it's real to Tony and he clenches his jaw and tightens his fingers around the cable, he forces his shaking hands to connect the hard drive.   
  
The contents are projected around Tony and he swipes through them, making adjustments and creating backups before allowing the defragmentation to begin. He sits back and watches the process. He knows it's a waste of time, but he can't bring himself to focus on any other task other than to think of Clint's whisper. He can feel the warm breath flutter past his ear. It makes him shudder, because he knows it's only his imagination.  
  
It's embarrassing and also disturbing for Tony to admit that he spends the next two days drifting in and out of focus. The only movements he makes are to switch hard drives and bring the cup of liquid to his mouth to take a sip from the straw. His machines take well good care of him, he's grateful for that. Otherwise, he would probably have already died from dehydration by now.  
  
His eyes wander. The room is warm and humming. Each and every surface is smooth, coloured in some variation of grey. Wires and cables run along the walls and Tony knows there are more hidden within the walls and floor. His eyes fix on a thin, black cable and he runs them over it slowly from port to connection.  
  
 _Wouldn't it be hot, Tony, if I tied you up and fucked you hard?_  Tony pushed himself roughly from his chair. The force is so strong that it sends his chair over onto its side.

 

* * *

 

Tony has seen Clint's handiwork with rope and wire. The things he can do with cables and string is artwork. Beautiful and mesmerizing. Tony's eyes wander and fix on another long, red cable. What would it be like if Clint were to tie him up with that? What would it look like, wound around his wrists? Forcing Tony still, keeping him still and trapped? It would look beautiful digging into the flesh of his wrists; the patterns Clint can tie would be hypnotic. And it would feel terrifying.

_Lie face down on the bed_ , Tony imagines Clint giving that order and it sends a chill down his spine. Clint always speaks in a soft and calming tone. Tony can always hear the love in Clint's voice. It is always there. But Tony couldn't imagine Clint giving that order in any voice other than one that is cold and demeaning.

Tony takes a shaky step towards his work bench and picks up a short USB cable. Then, with a wide sweep of his arms, he pushes everything off. The sound of metal and plastic clashing onto the floor breaks the humming and the buzzing of the room and Tony swings his arms behind his back and each hand clutch at either end of the USB cable.  _Imagine_ , Tony thinks to himself and he bends at the waist until his torso is lying against his work bench.

It looks wider and longer with nothing cluttering the surface. Clint could fuck him right here. Tony lets his cheek rest against the bench. It's cold. The humming seems louder. The buzzing from his arc reactor vibrates in his chest. The thumping of blood in his veins also grows louder and Tony closes his eyes and imagines.

_Spread your legs._

Tony moves his legs slightly apart. It's terrifying and Tony is surprised when he notices the involuntary shaking in his knees. It matches the thrumming of his arc reactor and Tony manages to find a slight note of amusement before he opens his eyes again. From his position against the bench, he can only see the slate grey of the surface and the black of the far wall. If he moves his eyes, he can see the soft green illumination of the hard drive's contents. 

_I can't do it_ , Tony thinks to himself as the rising panic moves from his stomach to into his chest.  _Not in this room, I can't do it in this room._

A loud beep sounds and Tony pushes himself violently from the bench. His heart thumps painfully against the arc reactor and his eyes dart around. The edges of his vision are blurred and he swears he can see the edge of  _that_  cave.

The USB cable drops to the floor with a soft clatter and Tony kicks it under the bench. 

"Sir, may I suggest -"

"No, Jarvis!" Tony snaps harshly.

"Certainly, Sir." There is a pause, and then, "Master Barton has entered the Tower."

"Good," Tony muttered and straightens himself. Taking long, confident strides, he heads to the bathroom to freshen up. His movements are methodical but stiff. The shaking in his right knee is still present but the panic in his chest has already dissipated. 

Tony cups his hands under the tap and waits for the water to gather before splashing his face. He repeats it a few times before looking into the mirror. He looks tired and wary. Unsure and nervous. "All right, Stark." Tony says to his reflection confidently. "You will walk out there and tell him. You won't do it. And if he still wants to tie you up and fuck you, he can find someone else." His voice wavers and Tony winces at the uncertainty. He sounds meek. Perhaps a shower first, to calm his nerves?  
The shower is comforting but it doesn't do much to calm his nerves. Still, he strides out of his lab and down the corridor with his shoulders pulled back and his spine straight.  _Sorry, Clint, I can't do it._  The words run repeatedly through his head until they sit on the tip of his tongue, ready to roll off as soon as possible. He's ready and dying to say them. But when he steps into Clint's room, he stops mid stride and stares at Clint's bare back. It is clear Clint's just had a shower and he's in the middle of pulling on something comfortable. When he finally turns around, Tony's heart skips a beat and the bedroom door closes behind him with a quiet click.

_Sorry, Clint, I can't do it_ , runs through Tony's brain one last time before Clint's smile makes Tony forget his fears.

 

* * *

  

"Tony!" Clint's true smile warms everyone's heart and Tony is the least immune to it. It's a truly happy one, filled with joy and hope. It doesn't stop at the stretch of his lips; it reaches past the corners of his eyes, seeping deep into the irises. There's a sparkle in each one and the wrinkles at the corners creates a comforting look. It makes Clint's face look relaxed and trusting, it makes Tony Stark feel like the rest of the world outside of the bubble holding himself and Clint fade into something unimportant. It makes Tony forget his pains and fears and it makes Tony  _believe_.  
  
"Hey Clint," Tony hears himself say. He watches Clint's smile still. He knows his voice sounds strange and he knows Clint did not miss that note of anxiety, but he continues anyway, "I've finished defragmenting the hard drives." A feeling of horror passes quickly through Tony's gut and he clenches his fists.  _I wasn't supposed to say that._  
  
Clint's smile wavers and he lets a moment to pass before stretching a loose black shirt over his head and shoulders. Tony watches the stretch of the fabric slide over the muscles. He watches the muscles tense and flex. He counts the breaths Clint takes and when Tony starts to feel the burning in his lungs he realizes that he is holding his breath.  
  
"Tony," Clint starts when he's fully dressed again; his arms hang harmlessly by his sides, palms facing outwards as if showing Tony he has no weapons. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
Tony licks his lips. He wants to say no, he wants to pull out. But the look of excitement in Clint's eyes makes him want to give more. More than he can give.  
  
"I'm just saying," Tony starts with a gulp. "I trust you." Tony gives a one-shoulder shrug, as if he's trying to pass off nonchalance.   
  
A moment of silence passes and Tony starts to feel a slight heat creeping up his neck. It makes him feel uncomfortable. Tony shifts his weight between his feet and contemplates diving into Clint's bed to hide under the blankets.  
  
"Say it," Clint says suddenly and Tony's wandering eyes meet Clint's in surprise. He's not sure what Clint wants him to say. "I need to hear you say it, Tony. I need to hear it, or I won't be sure. I need to be absolutely certain that  _you_  are certain."  
  
Tony stares for a moment and he watches Clint's face. The muscles are relaxed but his eyes are alert. Tony can see the caring and the love in Clint's eyes and suddenly, Tony can feel a blanket of calm shrouding them in this room.  
  
"I…" Tony starts hesitantly. He clears his throat and starts over. "I give you permission," Tony swallows, suddenly feeling rather childish and ridiculous, especially with the next sentence he is about to say. "To tie me up and…" Tony stops; his breath is caught in his throat. There's a twisting in his gut and he recognizes the first signs of panic.  
  
Clint doesn't react. He just keeps a calm expression on his face, his muscles are relaxed and he almost looks harmless. Tony knows this is encouragement and he feels a strange urge to please Clint.  
  
"And fuck me," Tony finishes in a whisper. His right knee is trembling again. His hands are clenched into fists by his side and he feels stiff all over. There is white noise in his ears and Tony isn't sure where that noise is from but it gets louder – if silence had a noise, this was probably it. Tony wants to turn and run. He wants to run into his lab and hide under one of the tables, where it's warm and comforting, with the hum of his computers and the whirls of his robots. Where it's safe because he controls everything in there and everything listen to his commands.   
  
Tony blinks and there's a rushing feeling in his head. His eyes go unfocused and his arm moves up, like it is preparing to grab something to stabilize himself.   
  
"Tony," Tony is vaguely aware of movement and he feels his world tilt, but he clenches the muscles in his thighs and his vision clears. He's still standing straight, but Clint is inches from his face, one hand gripping Tony's arm in support and the other is gently cupping Tony's face.

 

* * *

 

Tony lets out a sound halfway between a grunt and a moan.   
  
"I said," Clint speaks gently.  
  
"What?" Tony asks, but he's not sure he wants to know.  
  
"I'm not going to fuck you."  
  
"You're not?" Tony's head hurts from confusion. There's a pounding at his temple.  
  
"Well I will, if you want, but I want you to understand that it isn't just mindless sex, Tony."  
  
"Oh, of course, I know," Tony says, but he's not sure what that means.  
  
"Making love, like usual," Clint murmurs, and Tony can feel the warm breath pass over his lips before Clint moves in and kisses him gently. "You're not some cheap lay. I don't just want to tie you up and fuck you mindlessly into the bed."  
  
That's what Clint says, but Tony isn't sure he can digest that because all his brain does is repeat that last part -  _tie you up and fuck you mindlessly into the bed._  
  
His breath catches in his throat and his vision loses focus again. For a few seconds, he sees an interrogation chamber – which makes no sense.   
  
"Tony?" Clint's grip tightens and Tony blinks.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine!" Tony shakes his head and his vision clears. "I haven't slept in days. I've just finished up a few projects in the lab, you know how it is." Tony pulls away from Clint and waves his hand casually. "So, how do you want to do this? Tie me up, throw me down and have your naughty way with me?"  
  
"Well, I'd prefer it if it was completely consensual and you're in your right mind. Let's tone down on the manhandling."  
  
"I'd prefer that too," Tony mutters under his breath as he runs a hand through his hair. He feels jittery, like he's had too much caffeine.  _Adrenaline_ , Tony realizes with a stab to the gut. He feels like he's about to go into a fight.  
  
"What did you say?" Clint asks sharply.  
  
"Nothing," Tony says confidently, but he can't bring himself to look Clint in the eyes. "I think that sounds good. I'm just really tired right now."  
  
Clint eyes his partner warily before moving slowly to the bed. "Let's sleep on it tonight, yeah?" Clint pulls the blanket up and it's obvious to Tony that Clint is trying to give him a way out.  
  
Tony walks around to the other side of the bed and pulls up his side of the blanket. He gives Clint a pointed look before easing himself under the blanket. Clint follows after Tony's settled and Jarvis switches off the lights.  
  
Tony counts Clint's breaths and tries to match his own. Clint's arm is touching Tony's and while it usually comforts him, Tony feels lightly out of his own skin. Scared and on edge. Clint's fingers ghost over Tony's arm and Tony knows Clint can feel the elevated pulse and tension in his muscles. Clint eases his hand into Tony's and closes his fingers gently. It's supposed to be comforting, Tony knows, but he feels slightly trapped.  
  
"I trust you," Tony says softly and he closes his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days pass and Tony is sitting at the kitchen bench eating a biscuit when Clint presses up against his back. Clint's left hand curls around Tony's head. It covers his eyes. Tony swallows nervously.  
  
"I think," Clint begins and Tony tries to lean backwards into the warmth. His vision is completely blocked, not even the soft light of the setting sun seeps through. "I want to have you blindfolded, too."  
  
Tony's mouth goes dry and a bright light flashes through his brain. A tiny segment of a memory Tony has no desire to drag up.  
  
"Clint, please," Tony starts with a whine.  
  
"Shush," Clint murmurs against his neck. Tony can feel his soft lips, his warm breath ghosting over his neck. Clint finds his carotid pulse and closes his mouth over it. His hand over Tony's eyes presses down harder and Tony is pretty sure he's stopped breathing. Clint sucks gently and his right hand slips slowly under Tony's shirt.  
  
Tony struggles to release his breath and his hands close into fists. Clint's hand under his shirt is warm. It is firm against his stomach, tracing the faint outline of each muscle. It feels so good. It feels like Tony's senses are struggling in confusion. He has goose bumps on his arms. His toes are curled and the hair on the back of his neck is standing. Tony wants Clint to continue but if only Clint would  _just remove his hand and let him see_.  
  
Clint's hand travels gently up towards Tony's chest and suddenly, he can't breathe again. He can feel fear rushing through his veins but he also feels arousal flowing through his arteries. It's tiring.  
  
 _Don't take it out!_  As soon as that thought runs through his head, he regrets it. Clint would never hurt him. But the hand under his shirt is getting closer and all Tony can see in his head is the hand pressing against the arc reactor, fingers curling around the edges and agonizing pain –  
  
"Stop!" Tony shouts. Instantly, Clint steps away, his hands fall from Tony's body. He can see again. He can breathe. And it's so fucking confusing because he recognizes the familiarity of adrenaline coursing through his body, fear making his heart thump  _and_  he is half hard.  
  
 _See?_  Tony thinks to himself and runs a hand through his hair.  _He backed off._  
  
"Tony?" Tony can hear the concern in Clint’s voice.  
  
"We're in the kitchen!" Tony says lamely.  
  
"Come to my bedroom then," Clint says after a short pause. Tony listens as Clint walks away and leaves the kitchen.  
  
Tony stands up and immediately needs to support his weight with his hands against the bench. His knees are shaking terribly. Fucking hell. Was Clint going to tie him up? Tonight?  
  
The shaking in his knees doesn't stop. There's a thin layer of sweat on his palms. But he's half hard, so Clint must be dying for a fuck.  
  
 _Oh, get over it._  Tony snaps to himself.  _Clint is not going to take the damn thing out. He wants to fuck you, not fuck you up._

  
Tony pushes himself and takes shaky steps to follow Clint. The walk to his room is long and Tony relinquishes in the comfort of breathing regularly. There's no panic anymore, and he's sure arousal has taken over fear.

 

* * *

 

When Tony steps into Clint's room, he notices the lights are dimmed to about ten percent. He can see Clint undressing.  
  
"What are you waiting for? Let's go!" Clint says. Tony can hear the arousal in his voice. Clint's voice gets deep and slightly hoarse when he's looking forward to a good fuck. Just knowing this sends a wave of arousal through Tony and his pants tightens around his crotch.  
  
"Come on," Clint shucks off his pants and underwear before turning to face Tony. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed," Clint growls. This sends another jolt of arousal straight to Tony's cock. His ass clenches in anticipation and Tony unbuckles, unzips and pulls his pants off. He steps forward, grabs Clint's face and pulls him in for a fierce kiss.  
  
A groan of approval sounds from Clint's throat and he tugs at Tony's shirt. They separate for a breath of air. Clint pulls Tony's shirt right off, over his head and drops it onto the floor. Tony allows himself to be kissed hard again. They are standing so close, their cocks touch. Tony shivers at the length, much harder than his own. Tony can hear Clint's breathing and heart banging against his chest. Clint pushes Tony roughly onto the bed and Tony lands on his back with a whimper.  
  
"Sorry," Clint mumbles as he climbs atop Tony and goes straight to his neck. He presses his body down, allowing his weight to rest fully on Tony as he alternates between sucking and grazing his teeth over Tony's skin.  
  
One of his hands grip Tony's waist, digging into his flesh, the other pinches Tony's nipple. Clint moves his hips, rubbing his cock hard against Tony's. Just as Clint moves onto nibbling and sucking at Tony's clavicle, another memory flashes through Tony's head.   
  
A moan escapes his lips and Clint grunts, "Next time, I'm fucking you tied up."  
  
Tony grips Clint's upper arms harder and panic builds again. The room is getting so dark. He can't see.  
  
 _No!_  The pulling of emotions inside Tony is so painful.  _NO!_  Tony pushes at Clint's shoulders. He doesn't see Clint anymore. It's that man from the cave sucking at his chest. He wants to suck out his life force. Tony thinks he is seeing a man without a face, sinking his inhuman teeth through the hard cover of the arc reactor and sucking the light out of it, along with Tony's soul.  
  
Tony struggles against Clint and groans. The images are horrible. Tony knows they aren't real. Tony knows he's in Clint's room. But they don't stop and Tony thinks maybe, just maybe, his heart is going to burst through and get sucked in by that monster.  
  
Tony feels Clint move down his body and the panic changes. It's different. He just wishes that he can see. "Please." Tony lets out a shaky breath. "The lights, please."  
  
Clint chuckles against Tony's stomach and his hand slides down Tony's body to cup Tony's balls.   
  
"Jarvis," Tony gasps. His heart is banging hard in his chest and it hurts. It hurts because fear has sprung vines and it is growing slowly, curling itself around his heart and clenching it. It wants to stop it from beating. "Jarvis! The lights! Turn them up!"  
  
The lights turn up just as Clint swallows Tony's softening cock. He sucks and laps and his hands massages what he can't take into his mouth.  
  
Tony's eyes are open wide and he's staring at the ceiling. He can see. He can feel the panic and fear flowing away from his chest, releasing his heart and seeping through his skin.  
  
But Tony can hardly feel himself getting hard. He just lies there, and stares at the room, memorizing it, so he doesn't have to think about the cave the next time they have the lights off. He just  _breathes_.

"Clint..." Tony says, sliding his arms pathetically down to the head nestled in between his legs. Clint's mouth is warm, his hands are gentle and Tony's cock isn't as thrilled as he prefers it to be. His mind feels clouded, like someone sprayed mist into his brain. His vision keeps fading in and out of focus, like someone put netting over his eyes. There is a ringing in his ears and he's sure it isn't Jarvis running a security check. Tony feels tired. So fucking tired. "Clint," Tony tries again, his hands brushes gently over Clint's ears and he gives a slight tug at the short hair on either side of Clint's head.   
  
"Mmhm?" Clint murmurs around Tony's cock and it twitches.   
  
"Come up," Tony mumbles. "Come up, please." Tony is pretty sure he isn't orgasming tonight.   
  
There's a pause in Clint's movements and in that split second, Tony knows that Clint can sense there's a problem. Slowly, Clint retracts, letting Tony slip from his mouth. Clint licks his lips and looks up at Tony, "What's wrong?" Clint's face fights to keep a neutral expression, but Tony knows what to look for and he finds the sign of uncertainty flicker briefly in Clint's eyes. It breaks Tony's heart to know he cannot readily give what Clint desires. So Tony decides to give the second best option.   
  
"Make love to me," Tony whispers, then, he breaks eye contact and rolls towards his right, pushing up on his hands and knees, letting Clint's body shield his own. His back can feel the heat radiating from Clint's chest and his ass brushes the tip of a hard, weeping cock. Tony hates this position as much as Clint loves it. This is a terrifying position for Tony, one where Tony cannot see his partner, one where he's forced to rely on his ears and nose and his gut.   
  
It is a moment longer before Clint starts kissing and touching Tony's back. It isn't so bad, really. Tony enjoys the light kisses and loving caresses. Clint is gentle with Tony, and this gives him peace of mind. But it's exactly this reason that makes Tony squirm, too. How can someone so gentle in bed have the slightest desire for something so domineering like bondage? In the time they've been together, Clint has never so much expressed or hinted at wanting more than  _normal_  sex and this sets Tony on edge. What else has Clint been hiding?   
  
So Tony  _imagines_. It's one of his favourite hobbies. He likes to image designs, dreams up inventions, think up impossible scenarios just so he can work towards making it possible. Slowly, he leans down, ass up, resting his head against the pillow, his hands clenched into fists on either side. His head is turned to his left, his pillow soft against his cheek. He imagines. He pretends his hands are secured – not allowed to move, not allowed to fight back. He lets his eyes fall closed – not allowed to see. It's black, just like what Clint wants. A scared, docile and vulnerable lover.   
  
The gentle prodding of a lubed finger against his entrance causes a violent flinch and draws a whimper from Tony's throat. Clint's movement stops long enough for Tony to catch his breath.  
  
"Hey," Clint starts; his voice is laced with concern.   
  
"Don't stop," Tony murmurs and gives his ass a wriggle. He knows it looks cute.   
  
"Tony, do you want to stop?" Clint starts to move off Tony and in that second, Tony's left hand swings back and grabs Clint's. He guides it back to his hip before returning it to beside his head.   
  
"I said, don't stop," Tony snaps. It comes out harsh and he clears his throat. "I mean, I'm good to go if you are."   
  
There's a pause and Tony is vaguely aware the atmosphere is thick with tension. The ringing in his ears begins again and Tony wonders when it stopped. Clint starts rubbing circles on Tony's lower back first before massaging and easing his finger past the ring of muscle.

Tony imagines. He pretends his arms are tied, allowing no movement. He pretends there's a blindfold over his eyes and he pretends there is no Jarvis available to help him should he cry out for it. The thoughts make him nervous and he has to clench his hands into even tighter fists to stop the slight tremble.   
  
It's Clint's grunt of satisfaction, the warm squirts of semen coating his insides and the sudden weight of an extra body collapsing against Tony that brings him out of his imagination. He lets himself fall flat against the bed and allows himself to breathe again. A slow curl of panic builds in his chest and a churning in his gut makes him nauseous. When did Clint even penetrate him to begin with? Did he black out? Why didn't he notice Clint fucking him?  
  
Clint starts kissing his shoulder and suddenly, Tony can't wait to get out. He pushes backwards, sliding himself out from under Clint. Clint's softening cock slips out, bringing a gush of semen and lube with it. Tony pulls himself to the edge of the bed, swings his legs over and sits a moment.   
  
"Where are you going?"   
  
"A shower before bed," Tony says without looking at Clint. It's not that he doesn't want to; he just can't bring himself to. "I'm exhausted. Might sleep in my room tonight."  
  
"Tony," Clint makes a grab for Tony's arm just as Tony stands up from the bed. Clint misses by less than an inch. "You didn't even come."  
  
Tony looks down at his flaccid cock. A brief moment of hesitation flutters through his mind before he settles on an answer, "I did." Tony flees.   
  
He starts the run to his private bathroom as soon as he closes the bedroom door and doesn't stop until he's under the scalding water. He'd feel humiliated if he wasn't so busy drowning in guilt and uncertainty. Tony bites the inside of his cheek and dips his head under the cascading water. It's the first time Tony's failed to orgasm. And the first time he's lied about anything to a bed partner. The guilt is heavy and hot, it burns his insides like the water falling upon his neck. His heart thumps erratically in his chest but his arc reactor hums happily, mockingly, shining confidently. If a gentle person such as Clint wants to play bondage, would he also want to rip out Tony's heart?


End file.
